


An Unexpected Husband

by moststeph



Series: Arranged Yet Unexpected [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Enthusiastic Consent, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Marriage, Reader-Insert, Sex, Strangers to Lovers, Vaginal Sex, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23547007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moststeph/pseuds/moststeph
Summary: You arrive at Edoras for your arranged marriage to Eomer, King of Rohan.
Relationships: Éomer Éadig/Reader, Éomer Éadig/You
Series: Arranged Yet Unexpected [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694638
Comments: 13
Kudos: 84





	An Unexpected Husband

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheBiFromUNCLE](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBiFromUNCLE/gifts).



He was a good king, you were told, and a mighty warrior. Your mother told you she’d heard he was tall, with long blond hair, and a short beard. His ambassadors said he was Eomer, son of Eomund, Eadig (it meant blessed, they explained), and most importantly, the King of Rohan. 

You knew all this, but it told you nothing really. Was he kind? Would he be a faithful husband? A caring father? There was no one you could ask these questions about your betrothed. You turned them over and over in your mind as you rode up the winding streets of Edoras. You took in the thatched homes along the road, the smiles and waves from the crowds who had gathered along your route. You smiled and waved back as convincingly as you could, but their smiles and yours couldn’t quiet the fear roiling in your stomach. 

To be fair to your parents, they had let you wait a long time, honoring your (perhaps far-fetched) hopes of a love match. At last your father had put his foot down and insisted you be betrothed within the year. It just so happened that at the same time Eomer was looking to be engaged as well. Rohan’s ambassadors had come to stay in your duchy, negotiating terms with your father and mother. 

There was no discussion of love. You knew it had been an audacious dream, but you’d clung to it nonetheless. Now you hoped that you and he could find mutual respect and affection, the way your mother and father had. Love was most likely not in the cards, but a strong partnership could be. 

You had met his sister, Eowyn, once in Gondor. She had been polite and asked about your homeland, but she did not have much warmth. The only glimpses you saw of it were when she spoke to her wife, Faramir. The smiles she turned to her were as warm as the summer sun. You hoped Eomer had that warmth to be found as well.

You were so distracted by your thoughts that you hardly realized that you had arrived at the Golden Hall of Meduseld. You recognized Eowyn and Faramir there, and other courtiers you didn’t know. The tall man in the middle could only be Eomer. 

He was handsome, as your mother had said, and tall. His hair fell in soft waves to his shoulders, and a finely wrought circlet of gold rested on his forehead. His face was stern in repose, and did not brighten as your party approached. Riders who waited at the bottom of the stairs helped you dismount. You were thankful for their help, since you were still a nervous rider. One gave you a smile as he took your hand to lead you up the steps. 

“I am Gamling, my lady,” he said in a rough voice. “One of the King’s Marshals.”

“I am pleased to meet you,” you replied. “I am Y/N.”

“Yes,” he said with a slightly impish smile. “I had figured that out.” You gave him a small smile back. If this was one of Eomer’s trusted men, a sense of humor seemed to be a good sign.

  
Then you were at the top of the stairs, and your fiance - your future husband - was right in front of you. You took a deep breath and recited the words you’d practiced at home a hundred times. 

“Hail, Eomer Eadig, King of the Mark,” you said clearly, and curtsied. As you rose, he bowed deeply to you and responded,

“Hail Y/N, Lady of Erech.” He had a pleasant, deep voice and beautiful dark brown eyes fletched with green. You gave him a tentative smile and he returned it cautiously. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but you were glad he saw your nervousness and sought to put you a bit at ease. You thought perhaps he shared your anxiety, but there was no way to tell for sure. 

He turned to introduce his sister and her wife. Eowyn greeted you with an embrace and a kiss upon each cheek, Faramir doing the same. Eowyn held your hand in both of hers and pressed it as she said,

“When I heard the news I was pleased our families were to unite.” She smiled genuinely at you and you felt the warmth you’d seen her only give to Faramir before. 

“And I am glad to finally see my brother married,” she said, turning to him. “I thought perhaps he would die of old age before finding a bride.” Eomer rolled his eyes in response and shoved at Eowyn’s shoulder playfully. And was that a hint of a blush on his cheeks?    
  
“Please, come in before my sister convinces you you’ve made the wrong decision,” he said, offering you his arm. You took it and you turned together to enter the hall. 

  
  


\---

  
  


The mirror before you showed someone you truly didn’t recognize. She stood tall with a crown of flowers, both real and golden, upon her head in a long beaded white gown. Her hair had been braided delicately by maids from Erech and your new ladies of Rohan, though some was free to flow down your back and shoulders. You took a deep, steadying breath and nodded to your ladies. It was time.

Eomer was waiting for you at the bottom of the great hall’s steps, looking incredible in his armor of crimson leather and silver, with a cloak of dark green fringed in gold about his shoulders. He was every inch a king, from his golden crown to his polished boots. He seemed further away from you like this. Less a man and more an idea, a King. But, you thought, that was somewhat the point of this entire show. 

He extended his hand to you as you reached him, gently taking your hand in his larger one.

“You look beautiful.”   
  


His eyes were soft as he looked at you. You could tell he meant it. 

“Thank you,” you returned. “You look splendid.” He gave a small chuckle and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“In truth I am a bit uncomfortable. All the trappings are on today.” 

“I know what you mean,” you replied. “I’ve never sat and had my hair braided for three hours!” He gave you a small smile. 

“Shall we?” he pulled you gently by your hand. You took a quick nervous breath and exhaled it slowly. 

“Yes,” you agreed, and turned toward the paddock. 

You’d known from the time of your betrothal that a ride together was part of a Rohan wedding ceremony. While you could ride horses, you were far from a confident rider. You had tried to practice more as the wedding drew near, but your confidence hadn’t increased much. 

As you drew near, two men led out a beautiful mare. You gasped at the way her color shone in the light, like a burnished saddle or a caramel sweet from the street stalls of Minas Tirith. She had flowers braided into her mane, and her bridle was covered in white ribbon to match your gown. You looked up at Eomer with wide eyes. 

“For me?” 

He smiled. 

“Yes. I was told you are not fond of riding, so I picked a very gentle mare. She will go easy on you,” he assured you with a hint of humor. 

You had reached the paddock and you took in her beautiful face, the power in her muscles. One of the men handed you a root vegetable of some kind. 

“Give it to her with your palm flat,” Eomer advised. You did so, gingerly extending your hand. You jumped, just a bit, as her lips nuzzled around your palm and snapped up the root. You reached the hand she’d eaten from carefully forward to stroke down the side of her neck. 

“What’s her name?”

“I thought you could name her,” he answered. “But I have been calling her,” he continued, then said a word you didn’t recognize. It must be the language of Rohan, you realized. 

“Could you say that again?”   
  


“Cistenbéam,” he said slowly so you could catch all the sounds. You repeated it. 

“What does it mean?” 

“Chestnut tree,” he said.

“For her color,” you realized, smiling up at him. 

“Yes.” 

“I like it,” you told him. “It suits her. And her name can be the beginning of my learning your tongue.” 

He looked pleased, and a bit surprised. Quickly shaking it off, he took the reins of his horse from the other man. His horse was a dark brown, nearly black, and dappled with white. His forelock was a shock of white against his dark face. 

“This is Firefoot.” 

The men opened the gates so Firefoot and Cistenbéam could walk forward. Eomer took Cistenbéam’s reins to pull her gently alongside you, then kneeled to help you mount. You placed a nervous hand on his shoulder to push up and nearly squeaked in surprise as he stood to propel you upward. 

You landed on top of Cistenbéam with a little “Oof!” and found yourself suddenly towering over Eomer. He smiled at your surprise at the quick change of position. Some of your nervousness must have shown on your face, as he gave your foot a little squeeze of encouragement before moving to Firefoot and swiftly mounting. 

You rode together down the winding road you’d ridden up the day before, Eomer politely checking on you often. Cistenbéam turned out to be a dream to ride, going slowly and gently down the path. You patted her neck from where you sat and by degrees transitioned from anxious to enjoyment at her swaying motion. 

At least you reached the large canopy that had been constructed for the ceremony. The entire court was there, as well as your parents and many of Erech’s court. The townsfolk of Edoras had crowded around as well, and possibly more from further in Rohan. You gulped. This was a lot of attention.

Eomer dismounted quickly and came to help you, steadying you as you swayed a little on the ground. His hands were warm and steady on the sides of your waist as you found your balance. 

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him after finding your feet.

“Of course,” he said. Suddenly he looked extremely nervous - it was the first time you’d seen him show any apprehension since you’d arrived. 

“Ready?” you asked, giving his forearm a little squeeze. He looked down and gave you that small smile again.

“Ready,” he answered, and offered you his arm once more.

The ceremony was a blur of words and gestures by the woman in front of you. You stood and tried to listen but mostly your brain was abuzz with excitement, fear, worries, and a bit of happiness. Finally the woman bound your hands with Eomer’s with a garland of flowers, and declared that no one should part those who had chosen to join together. Eomer leaned toward you over your clasped hands and pressed his lips gently to yours. His lips were warm and soft. You turned together to face the now cheering crowd - you blushing, Eomer smiling. 

\---

The dinner and party after the ceremony were a complete blur - you’d been introduced to about a thousand people, introduced about a hundred people to Eomer, and tried to hold polite conversation with every person in the hall. There had been dancing and singing and a wrestling match, you thought, at one point, but acting as the hostess kept you from joining in any of the fun. After a truly impressive amount of food and ale had been consumed, Eomer turned to you.

  
“Would you like to retire? It has been a long day.” 

You smiled gratefully and nodded. He took your hand, and making polite apologies to everyone around you, guided you to his - now both of yours - chambers. 

\---

After you’d changed in separate apartments, Eomer had offered you some spiced mead - a wedding gift from the elven kingdom of Greenwood the Great. You accepted and two of you sat before the fire together, sipping at the drink. Its sweetness and spice warmed you to the tips of your toes.

You stared into the fire, stealing quick glances at your new husband every few moments. You wanted to say something, to break the tension or broach the topic of - you swallowed - consummation, but had absolutely  _ no _ idea how to begin. Eomer was shifting in his seat, moving his mead from one hand to another. Unable to bear the silence any longer, you spoke.

“Thank you again for Cistenbéam.” 

He looked up with a start when you spoke, then smiled at what you said. 

“I am glad you like her.” 

You smiled back and sipped your mead again.

"I would not join you in bed unless you wanted me there."

Now it was your turn to start. You stared at him feeling vaguely like a gaping fish.

“I mean -- that is --” he put his mead on the hearth and turned to face you more directly. 

“There are expectations. Of us. Of what happens tonight. But I would not have you do something for tradition’s sake, or because you feel obligated. There is no hurry.” 

He stood in one swift motion, moving quickly across the floor then reconsidering and crossing back to his seat by the fire. 

“I’m sorry. I am not used to...discussing these things. Or anything. I mean, I discuss things with my advisors, my men, but they are not...personal.” He ran a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I’m not very good at this."

Your heart clenched fondly. He was so clearly sincere and trying to put you at ease while nervous himself. You reached a hand tentatively and laid it on his knee. He looked from your hand to your face. 

“Thank you,” you murmured. “I appreciate your words. And what you offer. It is…” you searched for the right words. “Unexpected.” 

“You thought I would force myself on you?” he asked, almost indignant.

“No! Well, not exactly. But there are expectations, as you said. I had prepared myself for it...not to be something of love. Something of duty.” 

Eomer looked angry and you were worried you’d offended him. A more practical concern crossed your mind.

“And there are, well, traditions. From Erech.” 

His face changed from anger to confusion and he waited for you to continue.

“Members of my family, tomorrow, will look at the,” you sighed. Might as well get it out. “The sheets,” you finished. “To ensure the marriage has been consummated.” 

Eomer looked furious. He stood again and strode across the room. He kept his back to you, and when he spoke his voice was hard and cold. 

“I was not informed of this. I would not have agreed had I known.” 

Your heart clenched again. He turned to face you.

“I am not sure of the customs in Erech, but in Rohan virginity is not a requirement for marriage.” 

“It is in Erech,” you answered. “At least for women.” 

Eomer grimaced. 

“I did not know. I’m sorry.” 

You shrugged. It had been a part of the expectations of you for so long it felt somewhat commonplace now. 

“I do not mean to be disrespectful of your culture,” he said hurriedly. “It is just not how I was raised. It is understood that people will seek each other out, whether in marriage or not.” 

“I am not insulted. It is inevitable that our cultures would vary." You debated saying more, then decided since you were married, you might as well share things with him. 

"It is an old tradition, and one that my parents were not keen on repeating. But there is pressure from the court and from elders, and since I found no one I was...interested…in, it was no imposition." 

He sighed almost imperceptibly and looked at the floor. He raised his eyes then asked, 

“So they will be expecting...blood?” 

You nodded.

He moved so quickly you jumped in your seat. He crossed the room, coming to a stop in front of the mannequin displaying his armor. He pulled a dagger from its sheath and crossed to the bed, yanking back the heavy blanket. He extended an arm over the mattress and drew his dagger across the back of his forearm. 

“My lord!” you gasped, jumping up to go to his side. You grabbed a towel off a side table and ripped a strip off. When you reached him, you pulled on his arm until he turned toward you. Quickly you wrapped the strip of towel around his arm and pulled it tight to stop the bleeding. You knotted it securely then released his arm. In his other hand he still held the dagger. You took it from him and wiped it clean on the now ripped towel. You laid them both on the table and turned to find Eomer standing behind you. You looked up into his face. Many emotions played across it - concern, anger, a tenderness that took your breath away. You said nothing, and simply looked at him. Suddenly he spoke,

“Any man who harms his wife is not fit to be a husband.” 

Your breath caught.

He was more than kind, as you’d hoped. Much more. Perhaps a little impulsive, but you could work with that. A million emotions rushed through you - excitement, hope, concern, relief - so many that you barely knew how you really felt. You laughed a little and he looked at you, puzzled.

“Something amuses you?”

“No, no. It’s just...you giving me the choice,” you blushed a little, “Makes me want to do it.” 

His eyebrows went up. You wondered if you’d been too forward, but an enticing grin followed. 

“Indeed?” 

You returned his smile and brought your hands up to rest on his arms. He dipped his head slowly, eyes flitting to your lips then back up again.

“I would not have you feel bound to, out of...duty.” 

  
“No,” you assured him. You looked at his lips, such an enticing red. He nodded slowly then pressed his mouth to yours. 

This kiss was so different from the one you had shared in the ceremony. That had been polite, chaste, a respectful press of the lips. This one sent a shot of heat through your body and promised more in the best way. You slid your arms up to Eomer’s shoulders and his arms came to wrap around your waist. He traced your lips with his tongue and you gasped, opening your mouth to admit him. He hummed deep in his chest as he explored your mouth, you pushing back against his tongue with your own. 

After a few moments you pulled back and he followed suit. His eyes were soft as he looked down into yours. You smiled up at him. 

“It does not have to be more than this,” he told you. His hand came up to tuck some hair that had come loose behind your ear. “I am more than happy with how this day has gone.” 

“As am I,” you agreed. “But I would not object to more.” 

His grin returned and he bent to capture your lips again. You both hummed and moaned as you kissed, hands exploring each other’s bodies. You grew bolder and gripped at his sides and down to his ass, squeezing it appreciatively. He chuckled into your kiss and slid his hands down to yours as well, smoothing gently over it. Then suddenly he gripped it and pulled your hips to meet his, and you gasped to feel how hard he was against you. 

“If,” he asked, pressing kisses to your neck, “you are sure?”

“Yes,” you replied, almost desperate. “Please.” 

He groaned to hear you ask and pressed your lips together, sliding his tongue into your mouth. As he did he backed the both of you slowly toward the bed, then paused, uncertain, when you reached it.

“I….may have made a mess,” he said with a hint of humor, looking at the sheets behind you. You turned to pull the blanket briskly over them, sat on the bed, and looked at him expectantly. 

He kneeled carefully on either side of you and kissed you again, pushing you back gently until you lay spread across the bed with him holding himself above you. He moved from your mouth to your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses down to your collarbone where he nipped gently. You hissed in response and clutched his hair at the shock of pleasure it sent through you. 

He kissed along the swooped collar of your nightgown and pulled gently at the laces that ran down it at the top. Carefully, he pulled them apart and exposed your breasts, exhaling heavily as they were bared to him. You'd expected to feel embarrassed, but instead you felt bold. Proud. You wanted him to see you.  _ Especially _ if he kept looking at you like that. Then he bent to catch your nipple between his lips and all coherent thought fled.

"Eomer,  _ gods _ ,  _ Eomer _ ," you gasped as he licked and nibbled at one nipple, then the other. When his lips left the first his fingers replaced them, clever and deft against your sensitive skin. You moaned at the sensation, and at how wet his touch had you. 

So distracted by his right hand and mouth, you hadn't realized he’d used his other hand to edge the bottom of your nightgown up to the middle of your thighs. You shivered at the touch of his fingers against your skin. No one had ever touched you there, not with such purpose. He paused at your shiver, stilling his motions on your breasts and thigh, finding your eyes again.

"Is this all right?" he asked, his voice low. 

You loosened your hands in his hair and brought one to his cheek. You rubbed a thumb across his cheekbone.

"More than," you assured him. He gave you a small smile and turned to press a kiss to your palm. He started to lower his head again but you stopped him.

"I think it would be helpful if we just removed this entirely," you suggested. "I feel as if I'm sticking out of both ends of a sack." 

He barked a surprised laugh and pressed a quick kiss between your breasts.

"As my lady commands," he said with a touch of impishness. He sat back as you sat up and tugged the nightgown up and over your head. You emerged from the fluffy garment to see him disrobing too, shedding his loose shirt. As he pulled it up over his head, throwing his hair everywhere, his eyes met yours. You sat before him, naked, legs reaching out just to brush your toes against his legs. He paused and let his eyes run from the top of your head to your toes, then back up again. He looked at you from under dark lashes and a thrill, pleasure and anticipation, went through you.

He tried to remain on his knees while undoing his trousers, but quickly gave up to function over display, rolling onto his back to tug the brown pants down. You laughed to watch him quickly yank them down his long, hairy legs. He grinned at you as he tossed them aside and rolled back to meet you in the middle of the bed. You let your legs spread to allow him closer, looking your fill. He was muscular, and covered in a dusting of brown hair along his thighs and calves. His cock was thick, the skin silky where it rose from the nest of black curls. Your breath quickened at the sight of it, half fear, half excitement. 

He seemed to sense the fear, and kneeled between your legs again. He reached carefully to take your hands in his where they rested on your thighs. He gave them a squeeze as he said,

"Again. Whatever you want to do - or not do."

You decided the best answer was to reach out and stroke the beautiful cock before you.

He choked out, " _ Gods, _ " at your touch, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. You stroked him lightly but firmly, enjoying the weight of him in your hand. He opened his eyes again so he could pull you to kneel so you were flush against him and kissed you, hot breath in your mouth and hot cock in your hand. 

Eventually he pushed gently against you so you lay beneath him again. There was weight and purpose to it now in a way there hadn't been before. You felt it in the way you slid your hands over his shoulders, how he stroked down your waist and reached gently between your legs. His fingers ghosted across your clitoris and you gasped, digging your nails into his muscled arms. A sly grin crossed his face and he reached to slowly drag his fingertips across your wet folds and up to the clitoris again. You could feel yourself getting even wetter, and thought you might burst with the waves of sensation crashing over you.

You felt his fingers move with purpose and then one slid slowly inside you. You let your head thump back against the mattress and revelled in the sensation, overwhelming and not enough all at once. Eomer watched you intently as he fingered you carefully, adding a second finger after a minute. You moaned at the pleasant stretch and cried aloud when he crooked his fingers, pushing up and against the top of your vagina. Eomer suddenly bent and pressed a kiss to your clitoris. You arched off the bed and cried his name in response. 

Gasping, you patted ineffectually toward his shoulders, pulled lightly on the hair you could reach. When all your efforts were to no avail, you asked desperately, voice rasping,

" _ Please _ ." 

Instantly Eomer withdrew his fingers and was over you again, kissing you as he took his cock in hand to line up with you. You shifted your hips a little to allow him better access, and in one smooth movement he slid inside you.

You both groaned, his deep in his chest, yours trailing off into a whimper. He pulled slowly out then pushed back in, coaxing another groan from you. He lowered his lips to yours and hovered just above them, his breath heating your lips as he started to move in you. You whined, low in your throat and rose to meet him, pouring the sound into his mouth. 

He sped up his thrusts and you clung to him, arms and legs around him, as he pounded into you. You let yourself get lost in him, his smell and the feel of him inside you, on top of you. He gasped your name in your ear and you moaned his in return, a frantic call and answer. 

Eomer was panting hard as he fucked you, and you could tell he was close to coming. You freed one arm from around his broad shoulders to reach between you and stroke your clitoris. You were a virgin, in the strictest sense, but you'd long ago learned how to give yourself pleasure.

Eomer groaned to feel you touch yourself against him, and pressed his lips to yours with a desperate, "Yes,  _ yes _ ," urging you on as he chased his own finish. You whined against his lips as they crushed against yours, unyielding, and you felt your orgasm building. When you knew you were seconds away from it you tore your lips from his and tugged his head down so you could gasp in his ear,

"Eomer, my lord, give it to me, I want you to come in me, please." 

With a shocked cry he did as you asked, shoving as deep as he could as he came. He buried his face in your neck and moaned your name, nearly whimpering as he surrendered to the pleasure you'd given him. Your orgasm was pushed over the ledge by his and you came hard, moaning his name until it was almost a prayer. 

As you both came down, he pressed close-lipped kisses with a drowsy gentleness to your collarbones, your breasts, your temple, your cheek. He pulled carefully out of you and settled next to you on his side, bringing an arm to rest across your belly. You reached for it with both your hands, stroking the rough hair and tracing the silvery scars on his forearms. 

He hummed quietly in response and let his fingers dance up and down your waist, drawing ribbons to your hip and back up again. You could tell he was going to fall asleep, and you thought you wouldn't be far behind. You sat up just enough to pull part of the blanket over him, and pull the other side over yourself, rolling the two of you into a bundle as you lay sideways on the mattress. You pressed one more kiss to his forehead before letting yourself drift into slumber.

\---

  
  


"Oh damn," you cursed, dropping to relace your boot. You had been on your way to breakfast together when you realized your shoelaces had come loose. Eomer stopped to wait for you but you waved him on.

"Go, go, I'll only be a moment."

"As you wish.”

He turned the corner in front of you as you unknotted the unruly string. An explosion of boisterous noise made you start. Eomer's men had encountered him around the corner and were offering their congratulations, back slaps, and general male affection. 

"So how was she Eomer!" a voice suddenly shouted above the others. "Still abed after your first ride?" 

There were a few bawdy laughs and nervous chuckles, followed quickly by a deadly silence. Curious, you sneaked a peek around the corner. 

Eomer had a man by the front of his shirt, nearly lifting him off the ground with his force. The man looked petrified as Eomer hissed in his face,

"You will keep a civil tongue in your head when you speak of my wife and Queen, or you will lose that tongue, Foldred."

Eomer dropped Foldred's shirt and the man stumbled back, red in the face.

"Yes, my lord," he acknowledged, contrite. 

You pulled back around the corner and grinned. Straightening up to your full height and looking as Queenly as possible, you swept gracefully around the corner. 

The men all immediately dropped into bows with murmurs of "my lady" and "my queen." Eomer turned to you and his face transformed from anger to affection in a split second. 

"Gentlemen," you acknowledged them all graciously.

Eomer extended his hand and you took it.

"My wife," he greeted you with a little nod. Together you walked forward and the men parted for you. 

As you continued to the great hall, Eomer asked,

"So. How much of that did you hear?"

"Oh," you said airily. "Just the important parts." You looked up at him with a little smile. He returned it easily. You squeezed his hand in thanks and you walked in to breakfast together. 

  
  


\---

  
  


_ Five Years Later _

  
  


“Oh dear, Gamling,” you said with studied gravity. “It appears we are under attack.” 

Eomer came stomping down the hall, yowling in his most troll-like fashion, and making one of the most ridiculous faces you’d ever seen. You broke into giggles before remembering that you were supposed to be terrified, and cowered back against your throne.

“Oh gods! A troll!” you shouted somewhat convincingly. “Who will save us?!”

“I’ll save you mama!” came a cry from behind your throne. You grinned indulgently as your son came rushing down the dais to his father, wooden sword in hand. He ran as fast as his little legs could carry him to Eomer, who promptly crouched menacingly at Theomund. Theomund brandished his sword and smacked Eomer across the face, prompting a surprised yelp from him and a delighted cackle from you. 

“You’ll pay for that little man!” he threatened as he grabbed your son, hoisting him high in the air.

“No! Papa no, trolls don’t talk,” Theomund pouted, deeply upset that his illusion had been spoiled. Eomer kissed him on the cheek and carried him up the length of the hall to you, depositing him in your lap. 

“Some do, dear one,” you told him, gently taking his sword and dropping it on the ground beside you. Eomer sat in his throne next to you and took your now free hand in his own.

“Do they?” Theomund looked at Eomer with wide eyes.   
  
“Ask Bilbo next time he and King Thorin come to visit,” Eomer advised him. “He’ll have a story for you.”

You pressed a kiss to the top of Theomund’s head as he smiled, yawned, and snuggled down against your breast. With your free hand you reached up to stroke his golden hair, so like his father’s. You smiled at Eomer across your joined hands. He smiled back at you, his eyes soft.

How lucky you were to be surrounded by love. 

**Author's Note:**

> I again have no excuse. My uterus has taken over my brain and writing skills. Róisín is my constant reader, editor, and cheerleader.


End file.
